Red Sky in the Morning
by shannon.pearce14
Summary: Red Lyrium is a plague, but someone has found a cure. Survivors of its taint and Former Red Templars are popping up all over Thedas, only with no memory of ever being cured, or infected in the first place. If they can cure the Taint, then they can cure the blight and free the Wardens of their calling. Hawke and his new companions must look for this cure, but he's not the only one
1. Hawke

Chapter one  
Hawke

Why, oh why did his little brother have to be a warden? Why couldn't he have been a mercenary, or a trader, or even Maker forbid, a damned Templar. No, he guessed a Templar probably would have been just as bad. Maker bless Aveline for getting Carver away from that mess.

Garret Hawke sighed, wincing as he rolled over in the double bed the inn had so graciously comped him. There were times when he hated being the Champion of Kirkwall, but when it got him free drinks and a warm bed for the night, he'd smile and sign any book they thrust at him. Especially since hero-ing didn't pay all that well, and the Amell fortune; his fortune had been frozen because surprise, surprise he was an apostate.

He thought of the mess at Weisshaupt and hoped beyond hope that the Hero of Fereldon was up for the challenge, or even that she got there in time. He knew he should have stayed, he was the bearer of bad news, but people were yelling, baby griffons were crying, and he'd honestly just stepped from the fade days before. No, he didn't need excuses. They could do this without him, it was time he returned home.

He glanced at his staff leaning against the wall across the room. He didn't strictly need it use his magic, but after everything that just went down maybe leaving it that far out of reach was unwise. He should really get it. But even as the thought formed the ache that was his entire body protested the idea. "I wonder." He held out his hand to the staff but the second his mana boiled up he laughed at his own foolishness. "Maker's balls." He dropped his hand when he remembered he'd already tried that before. The memory made him laugh deep in his throat.

 _"Wine mage, make yourself useful." Hawke glanced over his shoulder, as a gauntleted hand brushed at a stray lock of his black hair that had fallen over his forehead. The cold sharp points made him shiver. Garret looked toward the stairs that lead down to the basement. Maker, it was so far, and he was so comfortable._

 _"What? You think I can conjure wine like it was lightning? If I could do that Fenris, I'd spend a lot less time sober."_

 _"Figures magic couldn't be used for something useful."_

 _Hawke glanced up seeing the bottle Fenris had opened before he arrived. Fenris had apparently already enjoyed it, but there had to be some left right? "Wait! I have an idea." Hawke hoisted himself up onto his elbow and held out his hand. Pulling forth his mana, he concentrated on the bottle, willing it to come to him. The bottle rattled on the spot. Fenris arched a dark brow and Hawke channelled more mana into his will. This was going to work, this was….. The bottle exploded, red wine raining down over the pair. Fenris turned his emerald gaze back to Hawke. Hawke gave him a sheepish smile. "Oops." What Fenris did next surprised him, and filled him with glee all at once. He laughed, his deep chuckle quiet and raspy, like he wasn't used to the sensation._

 _"Festis bei umo canavarum, Hawke," Fenris mutters with a shake of his head. Hawke allowed himself to chuckle as Fenris dragged himself up off the ground to go retrieve more wine. 'You will be the death of me, Hawke.' Hawke sincerely hoped not._

He missed Fenris. It had of course been his own choice to leave, but that hadn't made it any easier. Yet it had to be done. Fenris would have gotten himself killed for Hawke, and he sure wasn't about to let him. He could have however handled it better than he had. A folded letter on the pillow where Fenris was supposed to wake and find his lover. He could almost imagine Fenris's dark eyebrows pulling down into a sharp V, white hair falling forward to shield green eyes, as he read the carefully worded letter. He imagined his frustration at the fact that Hawke would leave him a note even when he knew that Fenris wasn't the world's most confident reader. The glow of his lyrium scars lighting the small room that had been theirs, as he scrunched up the letter in a fit of rage. Only to smooth it back out the second he realised what he'd done so he could read it again.

His anger would only be shadowed by that of Carver, who would have no doubt insisted on coming even though he was on the run from the very order Hawke had set off to help. He almost felt a little sorry for Aveline and her husband Donnic, having to deal with his moody men. Hawke was more than convinced that it was his charm alone that stopped them all from killing one another some days.

Varric had been his saving grace while he was on the run, Hawke couldn't contact Aveline or his brother for fear Fenris would use it to track him. He would contact Fenris, but he figured that might only be fuel for the fire. What would he say anyways?

 _My dearest Fenris,_

 _I'm sorry for leaving in the middle of the night like you were some drunken one night stand. It was nothing personal, and I do love you so very much, but I honestly thought I was going to die and we'd never have to have this conversation. Oh did I mention that I was a coward, you probably already guess that. Anywho, if I happen to hear that you have been with anyone in my absence, I might actually have to turn them into a frog. Just saying._

 _Truly sorry._

 _Your lover,_

 _Garret Hawke._

No, that would not have been a good idea at all. Makers breath could he take anything seriously? Still, he owed Varric more than a few drinks for passing the letters he did write along. He'd used his contacts, the kind Hawke was pretty sure he didn't want to know about, to send the letters on a bit of a journey before they reached their targets. He knew Fenris would find out about Skyhold, and he also knew it was only a matter of time before he came storming through their gate. He pitied the inquisitor, and Varric, who would have the immense task of talking him down. Maybe Hawke should return to Skyhold as well, because if anyone deserved Fenris's anger it was him. He was well equipped to deal with it. After all, if anybody else kissed him just to get him to shut up, he might rip out their heart on reflex.

Hawke rolled over again, his armour was very uncomfortable, but like fetching his staff, taking it off required so much effort. He was all out of effort to give at the moment, but it needed to be done. He sighed as he sat up, working the straps and buckles that held it in place. His under armour was little more than a linen shirt and light leather breeches. He got to his feet and tossed a fireball into the fireplace, the warm glow filling the room immediately. As he streached, he mulled his next course of action over in his mind, seeing there was really only one it didn't take all that long. To Skyhold, after all there was still that little Corypheus matter to attend to. surly they could use his help.

In a somewhat limping shamble, he made it to the door and looked to his staff. He grabbed it and summoned the last of his Mana to cast a quick healing spell over himself. It wasn't a magnificent one. After all he was better at hurting things, but it did the trick. He straightened and rolled his shoulders turning to lean the staff against the wall again. "I think I need a drink." His staff didn't object, in fact, it didn't respond at all. Thank the maker it hadn't, maybe they'd continue the conversation after he had a bit more to drink.

"Champion! Champion have you heard?" Hawke blinked open his eyes to the sound of some mad man screaming at him at this ungodly hour. He lifted his head and wiped his mouth. His head felt like it was going to fall off of his shoulders. He blinked a few times at the overly bright room. Where was he exactly? His world spun slightly and he almost fell off of his… stool. Oh, he was still at the bar, right. He scrubbed at his eyes and looked around. There were maybe two other people who seemed to have passed out around him, so it was a little less shameful. What happened last night, did someone drug him? He recalled laughing, a man, old, burly _. "Champion of Kirkwall, I'm from Kirkwall! We never met, but I was there, saw it all. You, my friend, are a hero,_ _tonight_ _you drink for free. Hawke, drinks are on me."_

Oh right, so that's what happened. He never could turn down a drink someone brought him, he always felt rude. A voice brought him back to the present and he tried to focus on the… Inquisition soldier standing in front of him, huh?

"What can I do for you, my good man?" By the Maker was his voice always so loud and annoying. He should really try to work on that. The boy that stood in front of him was bright eyed and had to be half his age. Lean, unassuming, a spy, or maybe a scout.

"I was told you were in town Serah. I thought I'd share the good news. The elder one is dead, and the hole in the sky is closed, the Inquisitor did it, she actually did it!"

Hawke tried to smile, but the boy's voice hurt far too much. He was sure the look on his face resembled what a smile should look like. "Excellent! Fantastic, we should celebrate!" the thought made his stomach lurch. "You should celebrate, my treat, I'm just going to celebrate here, like this." He let his head fall to the bar and closed his eyes. Yes, he liked celebrating. There was a firm tap on his shoulder and the spy/scout laughed and stomped off. Well, Hawke assumed he stomped because every step made his brain thump. "Tell the barman the Champion sent you, they'll hook you up." Hawke sighed as the door swung closed. Well, what was he going to do now?


	2. Fenris

Chapter two

Fenris

Fenris spurred his colt to go faster as he crested the hill and Skyhold fortress came into view. The wind had the chill of the mountains as it tore at the bare patches of skin through his light leather armour. He snarled at the thought of possibly seeing Hawke again. "Venhedis, Hawke. Vishanti caevas." _To the void with you Hawke. May the demons take you._ He murmured in his native Tevene. He always seemed to slip back into it whenever he was angry. But he regretted muttering at as soon as it left his mouth. He didn't mean that, and from all accounts Hawke had already been to the void, and just strolled back out. Kaffas, he hoped that wasn't true. Please be another of Varric's wild stories. Fenris wasn't sure he could deal with that thought right about now. No, right now his priory was finding Hawke, then he'd…. well he wasn't exactly sure what he'd do but it would be something. He'd not gotten that far yet.

The rocky path turned to cobbled stone and Fenris gave the colt a slight kick with his heels, pushing it that little bit more. The beast neighed loudly between pants but obliged. He knew he was pushing the animal slightly harder than he should, but they were nearly there. After he'd found Hawke, he'd be sure the creature was tended to. Skyhold's massive iron gate loomed up ahead at the end of the bridge leading toward the fortress. The stone beneath his horse's feet was worn and had seen many shoes beats in its time. ' _A busy place,'_ he mused. Two soldiers watched him, bows drawn and trained on the weak points in his armour from the gates twin towers as he approached. He slowed to a trot, then a walk before finally coming to a stop. He jumped down grabbing the massive great sword he carried and slung it over his shoulder, just in case.

"Halt, state your business at Skyhold." The voice belonged to a young woman who stood behind the gate. She was in full armour so he couldn't make much else out about her features. He was certain she was young though that was only a guess based on the high sweet voice. She was slight, that much was easy to tell, also tall and her build suggested she was Elven. Her next statement confirmed it. She spoke in fluent Elvenan, he assumed demanding the same thing she'd just asked. He spoke only three languages well, and Elvhenan wasn't one of them. He kept walking. He heard the arrow just in time to step out of its way, the ease in which he did told him it was a warning shot, so he stopped.

"Kaffas," he muttered. They weren't playing around.

"He's a Vint, I don't speak Tevene. Someone go fetch Krem, double time. This guy doesn't look like he likes to be kept waiting!" The girl called over her shoulder. Fenris couldn't help the small smile that moved to his lips.

"There is no need. I speak the king's speech. I am here looking for someone. His name is Garret Hawke, I am…" he trailed off. It wasn't like he and Hawke didn't acknowledge their relationship openly, but they just didn't like labels. Never had, Danairous had labelled him Fenris, his little wolf, and he'd taken back that name and made it his own. Besides, he was no more boyfriend material than Hawke was, and it felt foolish to address him as such. "A friend, a close friend."

The girl removed the helmet and studied him with large golden eyes. He was sure that this girl's eyes were large even by their standard. Pretty, young, and Elven as he expected, also Dalish according to the Vallaslin on her face. Though he knew better than to assume. Most people assumed he was Dalish thanks to his scars. But it was clear this elf, whatever her origins, didn't know him, and wasn't about to trust him. The look on her face said it all.

People rarely recognised him from Varric's tales, unless they were in Kirkwall, of course, and Varric had been kind enough to leave out the ordeal with his former master, so his scars only got a minor mention when he was first introduced in the book and not in great detail. He thinks there exact description was. 'White Lyrium scars covered every inch of his body. From his chin to his toes.' Then there was no mention of their appearance again, other than they glowed blue on occasion. So his personal involvement in the book was not a big one. Yet because Hawke had always taken him on every adventure, so theirs, his and Hawke's together, was larger than he liked and It wasn't until he spoke his name that people usually connected the dots.

"Never heard of him, you should probably be on your way Tevinter." There was suspicion in her voice, she thought he was here to harm Hawke. He was almost forty percent sure that wasn't the case, but he could promise nothing, he was in a bit of a mood. A small part of him wanted to hurt Hawke the way he'd been hurting for the past few months. The need for vengeance was an old habit he was trying to shake.

"Open the gates Elf!" He knew losing his temper wasn't going to help right at this second but that was all he had. If Garret was in there, he was sure as the void getting in there as well. Even if he had to ghost his way right through the bars.

"Look, we don't want any trouble and I doubt you do either. But unless we are told by the Commander to let you in, I'm not opening this gate. So leave and come back with permission to be here, then we will talk."

He could feel the burn of the Lyrium in his skin as it flared with his anger. The lines glowing as they did when they activated. He started to pace, cursing in Teveve, trying to reign in his anger. He didn't want to have to do this the hard way. If they'd only get Hawke.

"Someone get the Commander and some Templars!"

"I am no mage!" His voice left him as little more than a growling snarl of words. He sprung forward and wrapped his long slender fingers around the bars.

"But you do have a filthy mouth. Where in the void did you learn to speak like that? Anybody would think you were a pirate, only Vint's rarely become pirates. Even they hate us. Now I need you to back up." Fenris watched the man as he got closer. His face was delicate, soft, and his voice was masculine enough yet there was something off about it. Fenris decided he didn't care what it was and turned his attention to the fact that the man was from Tevinter and also a mercenary judging by his uniform. Dark hair, shaved short, eyes the colour of ale. This must be the Krem, the Elf guard had sent for. Fenris backed up a step. He'd rather not have to fight. Not unless they left him no choice.

"Atta boy. Now let me introduce myself. My name is Cremisius Aclassi, but most call me Krem. Lieutenant of the Bulls Chargers, currently in the service of the Inquisition. And you are?"

"My name is Fenris, I….."

"Makers breath! Open the gates." That voice was familiar, and the man that ran into view followed closely by two Templars was also familiar. The sight brought back memories from his time in Kirkwall. Though he did look better than when Fenris had last seen him. Knight-Commander Cullen strolled forward, a welcoming smile on his handsome his face. A smile pulled at the corners of Fenris' lips in response, but he pushed it away. He had liked Cullen from the few times they'd met in Kirkwall. They'd both share a jaded hatred of magic that Fenris had noticed right away. Yet both were reasonable enough to overlook certain things if need be.

The gate before him rose as Cullen came to a stop. He'd gotten a fancy new uniform since they had last met and his blonde, curly hair looked more styled than he remembered. A soldier pushed past Fenris and took hold of his horse. It had his belonging on it still, but he figured he'd get them back. Fenris gave a small incline of his head. "Knight-Commander Cullen."

"Please, just call me Cullen. I don't go by Knight-Commander anymore. I have left the order." Fenris quirked an eyebrow, that he found surprising. He'd not heard.

"Very well."

"I'm sorry for this mess." He motioned for Fenris to enter wisely not touching him. He'd gotten better at accepting passing touches from strangers. He didn't automatically try and kill them anymore, which was a big improvement. But he still hated to be touched, especially by people he hardly knew and avoided it when ever possible. "We'd received word that a stranger was heading our way, but the spies were unable to identify him. I put the gate on high alert. You should have sent a raven, your welcome would have been a friendlier one." Cullen patted Krem on the shoulder as they passed. The soldiers watched him with the same weary suspicion he'd been greeted with, but let him pass.

"I did not wish to announce my arrival, I was careful."

"Yes, very. Leliana was going out of her mind trying to figure it out. She doesn't like not knowing things."

Fenris stopped walking, so Cullen mirrored the gesture. He was in no mood for idle chit-chat and he would catch up with Cullen after he had dealt with Hawke.

"Where is Hawke?" He could hear the anger in his own voice and Cullen gave a weary smile.

"Hawke?" He tested the word on his tongue drawing it out like it was a perplexing question. Fenris knew stalling when he saw it.

"I know he is here, where is he?"

"Hawke, well he's…. that is he…."

"Broody! Andraste's flaming knickers, what are you doing here?" Varric bellowed as he jogged up to them. Fenris braced himself as the dwarf wrapped his arms around his middle in a crushing hug. He bore it in silence. Varric was his friend, Hawke's best friend, and there was no escaping it.

"Thank the Maker." At that, Fenris shot Cullen a vicious look, but to his credit the other man barely flinched.

"Broody that shit my work on Hawke, but it's not going to work on me, or Curly. So why don't we calm down, head over to the tavern and we'll find you some nice expensive wine, huh?"

"No, first you will tell me if he is here. And if he is not, you will tell me where he has gone. Then wine, sound fair." His words were reasonable he thought, but his tone was still filled with barely contained anger. He couldn't believe they were protecting Hawke! He had been the one wronged, not Hawke.

"Curly, I've got this." Varric put a meaty hand on Fenris's arm as Cullen gave a curt nod. Muttering something about being just over there should they need him. Fenris didn't watch him go, and he had to resist the urge to shake off the other man's touch. Fenris stared down into brown eyes, familiar and kind. He wanted to be mad at Varric, but he knew better than anyone that Varric would do anything thing for Hawke. In fact he would do anything for any one of his friends. It was what Fenris had always liked most about him. "I won't lie to you Broody, Hawke is here, but it's maybe not the best time for you to go barging in and rip him a well-deserved new one. He's seen some shit…" he sighed and looked away. "We all have, but Hawke isn't taking it well, not that he'd ever admit that. You know him, always has a smile and witty comment ready. I know he did you wrong Broody, I've already had a firm talk with him about that, but could you go easy on him? I'm not saying you forgive him, but just don't rip his heart out and crush it."

Fenris turned his face away. All his companions in Kirkwall had known about him and Hawke. It had become apparent quickly when they had more than once shown up at his Hightown mansion asking if he had seen Hawke because some drama needed his attention only to find him there. It had been innocent enough back then, Fenris had needed a friend. Not that he'd know it at the time and Hawke was always willing to lend an ear. Harmless fun, he'd thought. After all, Hawke was a shameless flirt, but he was hardly the only one Hawke flirted with. In fact for the longest time Fenris was sure Hawke was after Aveline. That was until Varric had mentioned the other man's preferences one night at the hanged man. And Isabell had laughed at him for not already knowing.

He, of course, was the last one to figure out that Hawke had been coming on to him. It was a startling thought. Fenris had never really had much of a preference himself, or if he had he could no longer remember what it was. Sex wasn't something a slave was allowed to indulge in as they pleased, especially so in his case. It was coming practice for slaves to be used in such a manner and the act was usually forced upon them, so he'd not even considered it himself for a long time. So the thought that he had a choice, that Hawke would let him decide, was nice.

Yet even with everyone knowing as much as they did about his and Hawke's love life, he knew none of them knew as much as Varric. He was, after all, Hawke's best friend, and he was sure the other man knew all his dirty secrets. He was probably putting them all in a book, for all Fenris knew.

"Kaffas Varric, what do you take me for? I am less inclined to hurt him than you are. But I must see him. I cannot promise you things will be friendly, but…." Fenris trailed off as he caught sight a figure out of the corner of his eye. He spun abruptly, a swirl of emotions tore through him. Love, hate, hurt, anger, joy, relief, happiness, finally the whirl settled back on anger. He could deal with anger. Hawke's steps faltered as a glared moved to Fenris's face. Though his smile never did. The woman who was walking a step behind him to his left looked between him and Fenris with a worried expression. But Fenris didn't care about her, only Hawke.

"Fenris, let me explain." That voice, his voice. Oh, how Fenris had missed it. Still the sound of it produced a small tug of hurt in his chest and that fueled a wild anger in his belly. He clenched his fists. Hawke took a step closer and Fenris could no longer hold it in. He was so confused at what he was supposed to be feeling with the mix of emotions that was tearing up his insides. So he gave into what he knew. Without warning as to what he planned to do Fenris pulled back his fist and socked the other man in the jaw, hard.

Hawke's face was thrown roughly to the side, caught off guard, as Varric stepped forward to grab Fenris's arm. Seemingly out of nowhere Cullen was in front of the woman that had arrived with Hawke, shielding her protectively with his body even as she tried to push him away, with a roll of her eyes. Hawke waved a hand telling them all to back away. He straightened, then adjusted his bearded jaw as Fenris glared at him. "I may have deserved that." Fenris started a rant that could not be described in any other language but Tevene. Hawke quirked an eyebrow and Fenris realised what he had done. "Sweetie, I don't speak Tevene you need to…"

"I know, damn you, Hawke!" Fenris took a few calming breaths. He decided to let the sweetie comment slide just this once as he studied Garret Hawke. His beard looked longer than Fenris remembered and his shaggy, dark hair was in desperate need of a trim. He would have to attend to that, he mused to distract himself from the anger and hurt. Hawke smiled at him, hand still massaging his jaw and it was then, that Fenris noticed how gaunt his lover's cheeks looked. And though he could not be totally sure, seeing his armour hid most of his body well, he was certain that Hawke had lost a fair bit of weight since he'd last seen him. There was also a weary sag to the man's shoulders and though neither of them was exactly as young as they had once been he noticed that Garret looked years older than the man actually was. Dark smudges coloured his lightly tanned skin under blue-grey eyes. The sight hurt him more than Hawke leaving.

"Garret…" he murmured softly meeting that blue-grey gaze. The other overwhelming feeling that was fighting to break free finally dug it's way through his anger and worry. Again Fenris acted without giving it a second thought and pulled the larger man flush against him and forced their lips to meet in a long overdue embrace. He was aware of all the eyes on them, they were, after all, standing in the courtyard by the gate, but he didn't care. He twisted a gauntleted hand into wavy black hair and tugged Hawke closer. The other man's mouth surrendering to the onslaught and giving in. The kiss said everything that Fenris would never be able to express himself. It told of his worry, of his loss, of the crushing need he'd felt at the other man absence. It spoke of the pain he'd felt but also of the anger and finally the determination he'd had not to let the only worthwhile thing in his life slip away from him. Hawke made a noise deep in this throat akin to a moan, and Fenris could feel his echoing growl building in this own. It was this that had told him they were rapidly moving past what should be done in polite company so he decided to be the stronger man and break the kiss.

He used his grip on Hawke's hair to separate them. The heat in the other man's eyes coiled in his belly and for just a second he considered mentally scarring their friends and taking his lover right there. But he reigned that thought in. He was still angry with Hawke, no matter how sexy the other man's come-hither grin and bedroom eyes were. He shoved him away none to gently and Hawke tried to compose himself. It took him longer than Fenris and he was still running fingers through his dark hair as Fenris looked around. Heat lighting his cheeks, yet he refused to be embarrassed.

Cullen was looking at his boots, the man had gone bright red, and Fenris could have sworn he was laughing. Although that wasn't the first time Cullen had seen Hawke and Fenris get a little carried away. They had, after all, sided with the Templars and quite frankly neither of them expected to walk away from that alive. The woman, who was now nestled into Cullen's side, his big armoured arm draped effortlessly around her waist, looked to be elbowing him in the ribs to get him to stop. Her own cheeks pink and her look chastising. With her free hand, she reached up and brushed a lock of white blonde hair out of her delicate, and very lovely face. Fenris caught a glimmer of green magic pulse, momentarily lighting both her hair and face. The inquisitor, he assumed. She was not what he was expecting at all.

Varric smiled and looked nonplussed, he'd seen it probably more than most and was already perhaps making notes about the encounter in his mind to include in his next book. He'd joked about the fact that he planned to continue chronicling Hawke's adventures. To which Hawke had just smiled and told him to be his guest, he didn't plan on having any more. Because that worked out well for him so far. Fenris was starting to believe that Hawke was incapable of being normal. That he just wasn't supposed to have a laid back boring life. Which suited him just fine, because neither was he.

"Well, I think that maybe we should give you two some time to work things out." The woman cleared her throat. "Fenris, I assume?" Fenris gave a curt nod as Hawke tried to slip a hand around his waist. Fenris bared his teeth in anger at the action and Hawke quickly backed up. Despite what Hawke thought, he was not forgiven. "I would love to be formally acquainted at a later date, but for now, Skyhold is open to you. If you need anything at all, you need only to ask. Varric, Cullen, if you please." She stepped away from Cullen and gestured towards a big stone staircase her and Hawke had descended moments ago and both of the men nodded in agreement.

"Good to see you again Broody, find me for a drink later, I promised you wine." Fenris nodded to Varric as he watched them walk off and he couldn't help but smile, somethings never changed. "As for you Curly, up for some Wicked Grace." Cullen's shoulders tensed and the inquisitor laughed.

"Not on your life Dwarf."

No. They never changed.


End file.
